His Best Friend
by zammierox
Summary: one-shot, Arthur and Gwaine muse  separately  on their and the other's relationship with Merlin. Both Gwaine and Arthur pov


Gwaine

It was nice - seeing Merlin again. Gwaine smiled at the thought, poking the campfire in front of him.

Those few days would be the highlight of a few months. Well, at least, the days until Arthur had joined their party.

Of course, that was the whole reason why Merlin had come to find him. Because Arthur had been in trouble. It was always Arthur.

He knew he shouldn't be bitter, but yet he couldn't help but feel somewhat hurt that that was the only reason Merlin ever sought him out. Not that he doubted Merlin's friendship - not at all.

And Gwaine realized Merlin was busy -with Arthur. He honestly did not know _why _Merlin did so much for the arrogant prince. Sure, it was Merlin's duty to attend to the man, but the younger's unwavering loyalties went beyond expectation.

What bugged Gwaine the most, however, was that Arthur seemed to take it all for granted. He treated Merlin like dirt and never seemed thankful for anything he did.

Take the Fisher King quest for example: Merlin had traveled throughout the Barren Lands to help Arthur and had saved the blonde's life, only to be yelled at for tagging along.

Gwaine knew Merlin had had something to do with the finding of the trident, as well. It couldn't have been that easy and his friend had had a certain _look _in his eyes.

Of course, Arthur had barely spared his previously trapped manservant a clap on the back before triumphantly turning back, trident in hand. He, on he other hand, had pulled Merlin into a hug, glad his friend was safe.

His friend. Merlin was his friend. He'd even call him a best friend. Well. He'd had a few friends before, but never a real, honest-to-goodness best friend.

Merlin, however, probably had lots of friends. He wondered what Merlin considered him as: a best friend? a close friend? just another friend? He hoped the latter wasn't the case, and he didn't really believe it to be either.

Although they couldn't see each other much, he and Merlin had a close bond. And so did Merlin and Arthur, as mush as the latter tried to ignore it.

Yawning, Gwaine realized just how tired he was and decided to continue his musing at a later time. He slipped off the log to lie down on the earth. After shifting around a bit, he fell asleep.

* * *

><p><span>Arthur<span>

Arthur looked out his window to the scene below. His men were struggling to safely maneuver an unconscious Gwaine off a horse and up to Gaius' chambers.

A page had already notified Arthur on what had happened. Apparently Gwaine had fallen asleep by a fire, and a wind had caused the flames to jump, burning Gwaine, who had awoken.

He had presumably blindly tried to get away, tripping over a log previously used as a seat, and knocked himself unconscious. It was simple luck that a parole had seen the leaping flames and had gone to check it out.

Arthur had seen a soldier gallop in, calling for Gaius. Arthur could not see the injured man's face from his window and in the dim torchlight, but the same page had notified him that the injured man had been identified as a "Gwaine".

Merlin had darted from the room upon hearing this as soon as the words left the page's mouth. Arthur had then dismissed the bewildered page.

Arthur, in turn, had turned back to the window to see his manservant's figure already running down the front steps of the castle, racing towards the horse with his friend splayed on the back.

Now, they had managed to get the unconscious man off the horse, and were in the midst of carrying him up the steps. Gaius was in the lead with Merlin hovering anxiously on the side.

He was clearly worried for his friend. His best friend. Arthur had never had a friend like that.

Sure, he considered Merlin a close friend, but they could never be real friends with their status differences. That was one of the reasons he was hesitant to Merlin's friendship; he tried to push it away, scared.

At least he knew Merlin wasn't trying to be friends with him for gain, the young man insulted him way too much for that. Arthur chuckled. But Merlin was a friend to everyone.

But more so with Gwaine. They were real best friends - he could tell. Arthur's envy almost wanted him to yell at Merlin for just dropping his duties to go see his friend, yet he wasn't that cruel.

And Merlin would glare, ignore him for days, going about his chores like a good manservant until Arthur did or said something apologetic. Those days were heck.

It was the same process for other things as well, except instead of a glare, Arthur would receive a disappointed look or a pout, depending on what Arthur had done wrong.

He couldn't bear that and would certainly not do something knowing those were the consequences. Listen to him! He sounded all girly like Merlin.

But that was just it. It was Merlin. And Merlin was Merlin – simple as that. Or maybe those thoughts just came with friendship – a package deal. And he was friends with Merlin, yes, close friends.

So maybe it wasn't that Merlin was closer with Gwaine, maybe they just had different types of friendships with Merlin. Maybe it was just as simple as Merlin would say: they were both his best friends.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: don't own Merlin ='(<strong>


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